Pantone ® Poets and other Writerly Friends, I spent yesterday wrapped in Fiesta red and
Cyber Yellow. My son’s school hosted a robotics tournament. I had a great time
volunteering, but felt like a run-down robot myself by the time we got home.
It’s Day
14 of the Pantone ® Poetry Project. If you’re new to the project, read all about
it at the introductory post.
We only
have one color for Day 14, Oxblood Red. Let’s dive into the response poems and
then we’ll wrap up Week 2. All three poems have a common theme – looking to the
past. What is it about Oxblood that reminds us of another time?
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| Fashion blog Double Take says Oxblood is THE color... if you're stuck in 2012. |
I have two
associations for this color: oxen on a farm and penny loafers in Oxblood
leather. Both feel slow and dull, which inspired this complaint – in the form
of a tanka – about my dependable Toyota Sienna.
Mini Van
By Laura
Shovan
You are
Oxblood Red—
dull as a
worn out loafer,
heavy as
an ox—
and I,
your patient driver,
dream of
my black Mustang days.
Yes, I
really did have a classic black Mustang back in the day. That’s a story for
another color. Diane Mayr (Random Noodling) is also looking to the past in her
Oxblood poem.
Oxblood Oxfords
by Diane Mayr
by Diane Mayr
In my youth shoes
were made of real
leather, and costly.
So, each week
my dad would get
a rag and a brush,
twist open a tin
of dark, rich, polish
labeled "Oxblood,"
dip the rag in and
smear the burgundy-
brown over his shoes.
I never gave thought
to the color's name until
one day it struck me:
Ox - blood. Blood of
an ox! I was horrified.
Today, almost all my
shoes are black as
coal, onyx. Obsidian,
or a raven. My shoes
are polished only rarely
now, but every day I
make a study of words.
I love the turn at the end of the poem, Diane.
Did anyone look up the etymology of “Oxblood”?
February 14 is Valentine’s Day, which
Linda Baie (Teacher Dance), used as inspiration for her poem.
Even Oxblood Red
Can Be Romantic
by Linda Baie
by Linda Baie
It’s romantic,
really!
I remember when
you hit your head
and blood pooled
in the hat, which
you held, leaning over.
The blood darkened
to oxblood red.
It was Valentine’s Day.
With your goofy grin,
you said: “Guess we’ll
celebrate in the ER!”
You bought us a Hershey bar
from the vending machine,
best chocolate ever!
Linda Baie ©All Rights Reserved
If you'd like to go back and read the writing responses from Week Two:
Day 8: Peach Pearl, Meteorite
Day 9: Wet Weather, Aqua Haze
Day 10: Amberglow, Golden Glow
Day 11: Tarmac
Day 13: Paprika, Burnt Russet (With next week's colors.)
Day 14: Oxblood Red
Some of you have already sent in poems for Day 15! Get ready for a delicious repast of Lemon Meringue and Margaritas.
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| Day 15 Lemon Meringue Pantone ® 12-0771 |
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| Day 15 Margarita Pantone ® 14-0116 |
Lovely remembering.
ReplyDeleteWho would have thought that oxblood could release such strong memories? I guess it's because the color is not as common anymore, despite the 2012 re-emergence. It's a strong color and probably better suited to accessories.
ReplyDeleteLaura,
ReplyDeleteIt was a bit too early on Sunday to have a margarita, so I read about the drink's history instead. Quite a fascinating and mysterious history, with no agreement on its origins. The multiple locations in which the drink was supposedly invented provided the basis for my poem. Here's what flowed:
HER NAME WAS MARGARITA
Her name was Margarita,
and she danced atop the bar
at the Rancho La Gloria,
between Tijuana and Rosarito.
She was all the rage in Baja.
Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.
I saw her next in Ensenada—
Hussong’s Cantina, if I remember.
She and I danced the merengue.
When I told her that I loved her,
all she said was "de nada."
Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.
At Tommy’s Place in El Paso,
before I shipped out from Fort Bliss,
we drank tequila in the shadows.
They said she was a German spy.
She told me she was Swiss.
Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.
At the Balinese in Galveston,
she teased me with her games.
It was there she drove me crazy,
then said her name was Daisy,
and she really came from Ames.
Her hair, the color of lemons,
her eyes, green as limes.
Those days with Margarita,
those were the best of times.
I remember the shoe kit, Diane, and the patience of my dad in polishing everyone's shoes. I still have one tin... And Laura, how car tastes change with a family. I had a tiny MG midget, my dream car, fun to imagine you in a Mustang!
ReplyDeleteLinda, The Valentine's Day in the ER is priceless. It's hard to not think of blood when reading oxblood. Diane, my husband still polishes his shoes and will occasionally do mine for me. I could smell the polish reading your poem.
ReplyDeleteLaura, I'll try to be better this week. I promise.